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... Merry Birthday, Jeff!!!*
Hello Gorgeous, pretty fella!
Would write you a complete novella
of young and charming Cinderella
draped with but a pink umbrella,
munching beef with Salmonella -
however - great. You are in luck:
my pen is simply grossly stuck!
Mean and tricksy midnight puck
with firm blessings stuffed 'n tucked
it in none too small a scale
well underneath the fluffy tail
~ of a well fed mongoose duck!
... Oh, ye gods!!!
What ever are we now to do?!!
Here's a quirky point of view:
let us fill her with fine brew;
for until she finds the loo -
our common goal we can't pursue!
So, in the Merry month of May,
- or July - whichever way -
run, have fun - enjoy your play
and dip thine whiskers in soufflé
of gifts and wishes: a neat soiree
(that we are) we cheer and say:
~ long live our Jeffy on this saintly Day!
How To Be A LadyBe kind and gentle
Remember! Nothing is accidental.
Remember all the little things
Never dip your feet, even in the most gentle of springs.
Never neglect your gentleman callers
No matter how much he hollers.
Your voice must be soft and gentle
Loud noises are vile and considered mental.
Never take wine with your afternoon tea
And a lady should never beg or plea.
Cloths should always be perfect, skirts never distraught
A parasol brought whenever it is hot.
No matter how rich, always act humble
And a lady, would never fumble.
A lady should always know when to use each fork
and how to eat her pork.
Always remember to lower your head
When greeted by another, even one you dread.
Now, remember your manners and never make a racket
or you might end up in a straight jacket.
Why Dogs are Better Than CatsA dog has a lot to do,
But you already to that,
and so this is a poem all about
why dogs are better than cats.
First, let's talk about night,
Since night gives most of us some fright;
Dogs will sleep all through the day (except when they have to play, of course)
But if an intruder knocks on the door,
A dog will roll up off the floor,
And bark, and bark, and bark.
And say the intruder didn't knock,
The dog will not exactly bark,
But will come up to the bad guy
wagging its tail,
Distracting the bad fellow with endless kisses.
Then Mom will know something is amiss,
Since someone in the house is getting kissed,
and everyone is safe in bed,
So a bad guy must be wanting fed;
So the Mom will come down and bring out the chicken,
Or at least that's what Fido thinks,
Then she'll feed Fido first, and then the bad guy,
Who wants to be fed
And everyone will be happy because Fido got chicken, and petted, and so forth.
Oviously there is no need for point two,
Because it should be very clear to you,
blind justicecaught in the act
a selfie to boot
should not have posed
so close to the loot
darn social media
a souvenir is fine
but don't show the whole world
who committed the crime
when all the evidence
is so easy to find
only hope that justice
will truly be blind
A Case of Identity: James WindibankA/N: By Jove!" he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man's face, "it is not part of my duties to my client, but here's a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to--"
“Mr. James Windibank,
Those who play games of sin we spank.”
Holmes raises his hunting crop…
“Oh, is that the time? I mustn’t stop!”
(wild clatter of steps upon the stairs)
Never A Happy EndingOver a Beer a Psychologist once told me...that there are only a few that he never truely understood,
and the worst out of the whole lot,
was that Little Miss Red Riding Hood.
She told him lies and would often storm of in a huff,
from day one he knew...'this little girl was going to be tuff'.
She told him how...she would cut with a knife,
any Wolf...that would dare give her any strife.
This bitterness she carried with her...through out her whole life,
she never once found love...or was to become someones wife.
In old age... her good vision was lost,
and to this...any poor four legged creature, with its life...would unfortunately pay the cost.
Stuck growing old...as a little fairytale girl,
she ended up going insane...claiming everything had a Wolf like smell.
Then she got institutionalised...when she thought granny was a Wolf...and threw her down the Well.
With more beer...the Psychologist...more tales, he started to tell,
Then there was Prince Charming....who never really got over his
Too Much InformationFor many years I have delayed,
But now I’m tired of waiting,
For now I feel mature enough
To tackle online dating
I think I must be honest,
And say it’s been a while,
Since last I had a lady friend,
But here goes with my profile:
Name and Appearance:
My name (for shame) is Stinky Stan
My body odour’s rank,
My parents gave this rotten name,
I’ve changed it now to Hank.
I think I’m almost six foot tall,
My body’s large and lumpy
I dress in the most drabbest clothes,
And others say I’m frumpy.
My eyes are beady buttons;
For my nose I lack the words,
And brown warts grow upon my cheeks
That look like squishy turds.
My lips are non-existent,
And I have rotten teeth,
My chin has yet another chin,
My neck is thin and scraggy,
My teeth are falling out,
My penis bends in such a way,
It’s like a teapot spout.
My knees are quite arthritic,
My elbows sharp and thin,
My chest is just pathetic,
and my stomach’s
ET Go HomeET Go Home
For days and days, the sky was dark
Lightning flashed here and there
There was more than electricity in the air
But though it was a signal "Hark"
Most folks seemed not to care
A war of worlds was still remote
For Herbert Wells once wrote
That the aliens landed in Britain
Still, there was tension in the air
But now the tension has ended, friends
And we are alone
ET go home
Bad InternetOh browser, oh broadband, why are you so cruel?
You load and you buffer, more stubborn than a muel.
And then when you finally get the video so sweet,
It turns out the film is in just 144p.
I tried with a dongle, that new one from three,
But lag and slow loads, Nowt but latency
The cable is dangling, making trip hazards three,
Oh why did I not just stay with old BT
Fibre optics, I cried, my mind all askew
It's flashy and good, and it's also quite new
With expectation and fun, I plugged it all in,
But the speed was so bad, I tossed it in bin.
Sod it! I yelled, tears streamed down my face,
Obviously the computer was never my place,
I cried, and I screamed for the cost, it was debt
All of this from my crap-shite internet.
Poema - POEMA A UN TRIUNFADORQue bello eres
Que haríamos sin ti
Eres un ser hermoso
Y nadie puede vivir sin ti
Y siempre contamos con tenerte
Y quien no te tenga
Sufrirá por carecerte
Y también mimarte
Te lavan todos los días
Y colonia te echan
Sufres por nuestra causa
Mas eres la cosa más bella
No pones pegas
Aunque sufres todos los días
Y callado te quedas
Rápido te curan
Si te mueres
Rápido un sustituto buscan
Si, te desean, seas como seas
Por que todos te tienen
Por que todos te buscan
Por que todos te aman
Y quien no te visite
Pobre condenado del alma
Debe de estar muerto
O que nunca se lava
A aquel sufridor
Que recibe nuestras visitas
Y ni siquiera critica
Keep in Touch!